


summer of ghosts

by sheriffandsteel



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, F/M, Modern Westeros, Summer Camp, Theonsa - Freeform, Theonsa Week, camp counselors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 03:56:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20717693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheriffandsteel/pseuds/sheriffandsteel
Summary: Camp Blackwater was Sansa's favorite place in the world, every summer she spent there she thought that there was nothing that could make her love it any less. That is until Theon Greyjoy arrived with his unfortunate perchance for ghost stories and his disregard for her sleeping habits.





	summer of ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Theonsa week day eight prompt: death.  
Enjoy!

Sansa had been a camp counselor at Camp Blackwater every summer since she was sixteen years old and she had been a camper there every summer since she was seven. Other than the owner, Davos Seaworth, she had spent the most time there out of anyone else. Having spent eighteen summers of her life there she was entirely certain that the camp was not haunted and that there had never been a death on the grounds. 

If only she could get Theon Greyjoy to stop spreading those rumors. 

It had started innocently enough, during the week the counselors spent at the camp for training before the campers joined them. He had taken to telling spooky stories around the campfire each night, always wanting to be the center of attention. Theon was a new counselor that year so Sansa didn't have the heart to tell him that they weren’t really the ghost story kind of camp. It didn’t help that the majority of the female counselors, and quite a few of the male ones too, seemed to become entranced when he told the stories, scooting ever closer to him around the fire until it looked like they were about to climb into his lap. 

As much as Sansa loathed to admit it, he was a good storyteller. He managed to drop his voice into scarier octaves at all the right points and he knew when to pause for effect. It was all in a good bit of fun and they were all adults, or close to it. She supposed that there was no harm in him telling a few ghost stories among friends. 

When the campers had arrived, Sansa had assumed that would be the end of it, or if Theon felt the need to tell a scary story he would wait until the first curfew when the younger cabins had gone off to bed. 

What a fool she had been. 

Sansa was so excited for the first day of camp that she didn’t spare a single thought to Theon Greyjoy. For the last three years she had been in charge of the youngest group of girls at camp, ages seven and eight, but this year she only had to brush tears off of two girls' faces when their parents left. Her other five girls all seemed to be holding it together but Sansa knew from experience she’d be up with at least half of her girls tonight after lights out, whispering soothing words and sharing her secret stash of Oreos with them to get them through the first night away from home. 

But for now, there were no more tears so she spent the first day the same way she always did; she settled her campers into their cabin and then took them on a tour of the grounds sprinkling in a few ice breakers before she took them over to the obstacle course where a series of trust building games had been set up. By the time they had finished their third game, one where they stood holding hands in a circle and had to pass a hula-hoop around the circle without anyone letting go, the girls were already on their way to becoming fast friends. As Sansa walked them over to the mess hall for lunch, her youngest girl and likely her shyest, Willa, slipped her hand into hers as they walked. Sansa had known her charges for only a matter of hours and already her heart was fond of them. 

That was the way it had always been for her at camp, even before she was a counselor. By the end of the first day she was always best friends with her cabinmates and now her campers. She wasn’t sure if it was the fresh air or open space or the fact that she could be whoever she wanted to be at camp but it had always been her favorite place in the world. 

Camp Blackwater was where Sansa felt most like herself. At camp it didn’t matter what she did the other nine months of the year. It didn’t matter that she had dropped out school for two years to pursue a failed modeling career or that she’d caught her last boyfriend cheating on her with a girl she’d been foolish enough to call friend. Here her last name was barely said and when it was, they were far enough south that most people didn’t immediately make the connection to her father’s company. At Camp Blackwater she was no longer Sansa Stark, heiress to a multi-billion dollar corporation, former face of Dusky Rose’s spring fashion collection, ex-fiancée of Harry Hardyng. At Camp Blackwater she was just Sansa. For eleven weeks out of the year Sansa got to be more herself than the other forty-one weeks combined. She savored every moment of it and when camp ended, she was usually just as sad as the campers, sometimes even more. 

But it wasn’t the end of camp yet, it wasn’t anywhere close. Today was just the beginning and today was going to be _amazing_.

And it was. 

Until the campfire. 

The opening night campfire was always huge and Marillon, the music instructor, played happy songs on his guitar while everyone gorged themselves silly on hotdogs and s’mores. Sansa tugged the sleeves of her sweatshirt down over her hands as she rested against a log and watched two of her campers, Barra and Jeyne, play tic-tac-toe in the dirt with their fingers. She felt warm and happy all over and she sighed in contentment, overjoyed at the start of what was sure to be another perfect summer. 

“Everyone gather round, I have something very important to share with you!” Theon’s already familiar voice cut through the night as he stood on a log that was positioned dangerously close to the fire, waving his arms to bring the furthest campers back to the fire. Everyone followed his instructions and gathered close, expecting another announcement or reminder of camp rules. 

Sansa, who had been to the opening night campfire more than anyone there knew that it was neither of those things. She narrowed her eyes at Theon and sat up straighter as he jumped off the log and sat down on it, leaning forward conspiratorially. Surely, he wasn’t about to tell yet another of his stupid ghost stories. Surely, he realized that the younger kids were still there and the kinds of stories he told were far too scary for them. 

“Listen closely everyone because what I am about to tell you is very important.” the light of the fire glinted off of Theon’s curls as he leaned even closer to it and Sansa felt her jaw clench in annoyance. Surely, he wouldn’t _dare_\- “Let me tell you all about the ghosts of Camp Blackwater.” 

Apparently, he would dare. 

It seemed that Sansa had badly misjudged their newest counselor and every night he told a different ghost story around the campfire, all of them about ghosts that supposedly still haunted the grounds to this day. All of them incredibly dark and a little violent. Sansa kept waiting for Davos to tell him to cut it out but he never did. The majority of the campers seemed to enjoy them, clinging to every single one of Theon’s words and even shrieking in surprise at some of the twists and turns of the stories. The other counselors certainly enjoyed them. either because they were busy openly staring at Theon or because he was keeping their charges enthralled enough to give them a much needed mental break. 

In fact, the only ones in the whole camp who didn’t seem to like Theon’s ghost stories were the occupants of cabin Weirwood. 

They weren’t even a week into camp and so far, Sansa had slept maybe three hours a night. There was no way she was going to survive the rest of the summer like this. Sansa knew with absolute certainty that there were no ghosts at Camp Blackwater but no matter how many times she reassured her cabin this, they didn’t believe her. She had spent the last five nights checking under beds and searching the outside of their cabin for signs of disturbances. She knew that she could just stand on the porch and shiver in the cold for a few minutes before going back inside and telling the girls she had checked but Sansa didn’t want there to be any kind of lies in their relationship. For the next nine weeks she was the closest adult mentor these girls would have and she was not about to shroud their trust with disillusions. Which was why every night she shoved her bare feet into her boots and grabbed the ridiculously heavy flashlight her mother insisted she take with her every year to make a careful round of the cabin’s exterior, knowing that there was nothing to find even as she scanned the ground anyway, careful to keep her light from shining into the windows of any of the cabins next to hers. 

That was how Theon found her on the fifth day of camp as he made the nightly rounds the counselors took turns taking. 

“Did you lose something?” he asked softly, his voice making Sansa jump about a mile high. She hadn’t heard him approach. 

She placed a hand over her racing heart before she turned to level her exhausted glare at him. “No.” she bit out through gritted teeth. “I’m searching for signs of ghosts.” 

“What?” Theon barked out a laugh that felt impossibly loud in the still night air. Sansa made a shushing motion at him as she looked around the cabins to make sure no lights turned on. Just because her cabin didn’t sleep didn’t mean no one else shouldn’t. 

“None of my girls have slept since camp started because of your stupid stories.” Sansa snapped, crossing her arms in annoyance. She felt a bitter tinge of satisfaction when the beam of the flashlight hit Theon in the eyes, making him wince and raise a hand to block out the glare. 

“Have they never heard a ghost story before?” Theon asked, not sounding even the slightest bit apologetic much to Sansa’s growing annoyance. 

“They’re seven.” Sansa hissed, pointedly ignoring the fact that actually Dorea, Megga and Kyra were all eight. 

“Are they stupid too?” Theon whispered causing Sansa’s mouth to drop open in shock. 

“Excuse me?” she asked, her voice tight with anger. How dare he insult her charges? She might have only known those girls for five days but she would not stand by idly and let them be insulted. 

“Everyone knows ghosts don’t leave tracks.” Theon said with a smirk that made Sansa want to throw her ridiculously heavy flashlight at his head. Before she could get her sleep deprived brain to come up with a scathing enough response he had turned and walked away from her to continue on his rounds. Left with nothing but the chirping of crickets and her burning rage Sansa gritted her teeth and made her was around to the front of her cabin, stomping her feet against the hard-packed earth to release some of her frustration. 

This was not how summer was supposed to go. Summer was supposed to be spent with fun days laughing at the lake and making friendship bracelets that she would wear year-round until they fell off in her hands. Camp Blackwater was a safe place, a _happy_ place. It was not a place for sleepless nights and ghost stories and utter _jerks_ like Theon Greyjoy. 

Sansa headed back into her cabin to try to calmly reassure the girls that she had seen no signs of any ghosts, refusing to even think on Theon’s comment. He better not tell them that ghosts didn’t leave traces behind or then she would never be able to talk the girls into calmly down. They’d already gone through all of her Oreo stash and now she only had a few sour candies she was saving for emergencies. 

The girls all finally calmed down enough to lay down and try to go to sleep and Sansa climbed gratefully into her bed, her fingers crossed that they would all sleep through the rest of the night. She listened as one after another their breathing evened out as they slipped into slumber and Sansa let out a long breath of relief. It was only a little bit after midnight and wake-up call wasn’t until seven, she might actually be able to get a full night’s sleep after all. 

“Sansa?” Willa’s quiet voice whispered from the bunk across from hers and Sansa squeezed her eyes shut tight to stop herself from bursting into tears as she watched another night of sleep drift away from her at her voice. 

Sansa slipped out of bed to sit next to Willa on hers and reassure her yet again that they were safe. Sansa knew without a doubt that there were no ghosts at Camp Blackwater but if she lost one more night of sleep due to Theon Greyjoy and his stupid ghost stories there might end up being a death on the premises after all. 

Maybe he’d get lucky and he could finally be the star of those ghost stories he was so fond of telling.


End file.
